The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 23
Сторінка 6
The first stanza , therefore , was the following - as grim a picture as Blake or Fuseli could have dreamed and painted : “ Though you should build a bark of dead men's bones , And rear a phantom gibbet for a mast , Stitch shrouds ...
The first stanza , therefore , was the following - as grim a picture as Blake or Fuseli could have dreamed and painted : “ Though you should build a bark of dead men's bones , And rear a phantom gibbet for a mast , Stitch shrouds ...
Сторінка 27
To every symbol on his forehead high ; She saw it waxing very pale and dead , And straight all flush'd ; so , lisped tenderly , “ Lorenzo ! ” here she ceased her timid quest , But in her tone and look he read the rest . VIII .
To every symbol on his forehead high ; She saw it waxing very pale and dead , And straight all flush'd ; so , lisped tenderly , “ Lorenzo ! ” here she ceased her timid quest , But in her tone and look he read the rest . VIII .
Сторінка 28
It cannot be - Too many tears for lovers have been shed , Too many sighs give we to them in fee , Too much of pity after they are dead , Too many doleful stories do we see , Whose matter in bright gold were best be read ; Except in such ...
It cannot be - Too many tears for lovers have been shed , Too many sighs give we to them in fee , Too much of pity after they are dead , Too many doleful stories do we see , Whose matter in bright gold were best be read ; Except in such ...
Сторінка 40
The ancient harps have said , Love never dies , but lives , immortal Lord : If Love impersonate was ever dead , Pale Isabella kiss'd it , and low moan'd . ' Twas love ; cold , -dead indeed , but not ...
The ancient harps have said , Love never dies , but lives , immortal Lord : If Love impersonate was ever dead , Pale Isabella kiss'd it , and low moan'd . ' Twas love ; cold , -dead indeed , but not ...
Сторінка 42
Through bronzed lyre in tragic order go , And touch the strings into a mystery ; Sound mournfully upon the winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be Among the dead : She withers , like a palm Cut by an Indian for its juicy balm .
Through bronzed lyre in tragic order go , And touch the strings into a mystery ; Sound mournfully upon the winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be Among the dead : She withers , like a palm Cut by an Indian for its juicy balm .
Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
Albert arms Auranthe beauty breathe bright close clouds cold comes Conrad dark dead death deep door doth dream earth Emperor Enter Erminia Ethelbert eyes face fair fear feel feet fire flowers follow Gersa give gold golden green hair hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hour keep king lady leave light lips live look lord Ludolph Lycius moan moon morn mortal never night noble once Otho pain pale pass poor Prince rose round Saturn SCENE seen shade side Sigifred silent silver sleep soft sorrow soul speak Spirit stars step stood sure sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought tongue took turn voice warm weep whisper wide winds wine wings young